I'll say it if you won't.

Monthly Archives: March 2012

“We like to think we’re so smart. And we have all the answers. And we want to pass all of it on to our children. But if you scratch beneath the surface, you don’t have to dig very deep to find the kid you were. Which is why it’s kind of crazy that now we’re raising kids of our own. I guess that’s the real circle of life. Your parents faked their way through it; you fake your way through it. And hopefully you don’t raise a serial killer.”

– Phil Dunphy, Modern Family

Aside from the fact that Modern Family is genius, Phil‘s got this exactly right.

Papa D. and I struggled for a long time in our decision to have a child. There were times we said we wouldn’t. We always told our family we wouldn’t, even when we had decided we would. In reality, we had been taking steps towards having a child for a long time. When we bought our house, we painted the smallest bedroom sage green. We traded in one of our cars for an SUV and blamed it on the dog (who fit just fine in the car). We went to a free day at the zoo, and loved it. Papa D. ran like a child to any display in any store that had “Cars” merchandise on it. He bought a kickball at the grocery store, and still hasn’t used it. But I know now that he will.

When I was pregnant, I started getting really nostalgic….mostly with food (shocking, right?). I had a stash of Throwback Pepsi that you could practically climb (Reason #1,312 that I LOVE Costco!). Toward the end, I couldn’t keep Cinnamon Toast Crunch in the house for fear of eating the whole box. I craved spaghettios. I made grilled cheese sandwiches with Kraft Singles. I even bought a bag of Salsa Rio Doritos that the people at Frito-Lay resurrected, as it felt, just for me. I stopped myself short picking up a Happy Meal with nuggets and hot mustard (Okay…so maybe I didn’t). I’m not a huge junk food eater, and the majority of the time we did NOT eat these things when I was little. So what was the deal?

I realized that these foods all represented memories for me. When I was little, Pepsi (with the real sugar) was the only soda we had in the house. It reminds me of my Dad. Cinnamon toast crunch was an occasional breakfast treat. I ate Spaghettios from the can at my Grandma’s house and after races at my swim meets. Grilled Cheese was the first thing I learned to cook on my own, and my mom would “request” it from me. Salsa-Rio Doritos were present at sleepovers with my best friend when I lived in Milwaukee..along with Green River soda and Girl Talk. A Chicken Nugget Happy-Meal was the treat I got on our road trips “Up North” to visit my Busia and Dzia-Dzia (For the Non-Polish, my Grandparents).

Meanwhile, Papa D. bought a “Cars” sticker book at the store, to which this conversation ensued:

Papa D:“It’s for the baby.” pointing to my 5-month-along belly.

Cashier: “Sure…I’m sure it is.”

Papa D: “No, really it is.”

Me: “Which is why it says ages 3 years and older on it, right?”

There’s something about a baby that really makes you start to find yourself, the child version of you, again. Something that makes you want to get down on the floor and play. Or examine the blades of grass and the clouds in the sky like it’s the first time you’ve seen them. It makes you want to remember everything that you are now truly thankful for having as memories.

Now, we can’t get through a trip to Target without one of us (I bet you can guess which one) running through the toy aisle saying “Ahhh!! Look at this!!”. We talk about trips to the zoo, the aquarium, and sneaking Baby D. out of school to take him to a Brewers game – just like someone in our lives did for us. We fight about who will build a better fort out of couch cushions and blankets. We laugh when we talk about playing “Ghosts in the Graveyard”. In all cases, we imagine his face lighting up, because we have old pictures of our own faces doing the same. I so badly want him to have those memories too. Being able to give him those memories means digging deep to set aside the work-mama, the cleaning-cooking-maintaining house mama, and remembering to slow down. And I will, because it is so unbelievably, truly, important to me. It’s been my favorite part of this journey so far, and I can’t wait to find out what other memories come flooding back as he grows.

What kind of nostalgia have your babies (or the babies you know) brought back to you?

I need to get this off of my chest (no pun intended). If I sound mad, it’s because I am. However, I will do this once and only once, and then I’m done, I promise. I just need to get this out.

Something that has just blown my mind since day 1 of getting pregnant, is the debate between breastfeeding or formula feeding your baby. Suddenly, everyone I know was asking if I was going to breastfeed, and initially, my answer was no. I was formula fed, as I mentioned before, and, knew nothing of babies or the world accompanying them. To me, formula was an acceptable choice, and I didn’t see what the big deal was. After all, it was my boobs, my baby, and our family we were talking about, it should be my decision, right?

Wrong. I was barraged. By nurses, well-meaning friends, strangers, articles, bus advertisements, everything right on down to the formula samples I got in the mail said “Breast is Best!”. People said “just try it”, and “your baby deserves the best”. Not wanting to let the world or my baby down, I decided to hold off and make my decision when he was born – and when he was born, I decided to breastfeed. I did my research. I understand there are numerous benefits to breastfeeding and breastmilk. I also support anyone I know that breastfeeds. I believe it’s a great thing, if it’s something that works for your family and you desire to do so.

But mama….is it really THAT big of an argument? Read the following article to see how out of hand this has gotten. Unless I’m missing something and men generally lactate, I find this totally and utterly ridiculous:

I admit, everything went well, so I thought, for a short while. This is where I stop my story, though, because I’ve made a vow to myself to stop feeling like I need to rationalize the decision I made. Every time someone asks me if I nursed Baby D I spill into this ramble about our story and my thought process and why I stopped. I was usually met with a “well did you try this?” or “could you have done this?” I finally realized – I don’t owe an explanation to anyone. It didn’t work for our family, and as a family, it’s a decision that WE made. Explaining my circumstances would never lead anyone to feel what I felt or what we dealt with as a family behind closed doors. Frankly, I’m not even sure it’s anyone’s business.

That being said, since we’ve been on formula, I have heard some pretty shitty things in likely and unlikely places, and for the most part I’ve learned to let it roll off of my back. But the sanctimonious one-upping really pisses me off, especially when it implies that I am harming my child or re-writing the course of his life by using formula. Which is too bad, you know, because Baby D could have been president, but he’ll likely fail out of college and end up taking orders at McDonalds because I couldn’t hack the boob thing.

In that case, do you think that the next time I screw up at my job I could just tell my boss that I’m formula fed, and that if only I had been breastfed my IQ would be a little higher?

No. Because it’s totally stupid and ridiculous. I am absolutely sickened by the time I’ve wasted on the guilt I’ve had and hearing about the guilt placed on other new mothers that are just trying to do what they can, the best they know how. I sometimes feel as though I am wearing a “Scarlet F” – or that I don’t belong to the good mama club. You know, supporting breastfeeding does not need to equal bashing formula feeding. Just as supporting formula feeding does not mean you need to bash breastfeeding. The two are not mutually exclusive, and in my opinion, it all does more harm than good. Support does not need to always come in the form of influence. Support should be positive, factual, helpful.

That being said, I know where the guilt comes from, and it’s fueled in part by comments such as those you can read below (which are all things I have heard/read/or both…..seriously).

Giving a baby formula is like letting them ride in the car without a car seat.

If you can’t sacrifice your body for another year for your baby’s sake, you don’t deserve to be a mother.

I sacrificed for him for 9+ months so he could grow into the cute little guy he is now, and am still sacrificing after delivery in ways that will make you cringe. Breastfeeding for the purpose of being able to tell everyone how much pain and stress I have endured on account of my baby would not make me a better mother it would only make me sound like a bitch. Want to know how bad of a mom I am?? I got an epidural to AVOID the pain…to which I can guarantee my son will not give a shit.

You can’t bond with your baby when you’re not breastfeeding.

Tell that to my mother and father that adopted me at the age of 3 months – after I had been fed formula by hospital staff, foster parents, and God knows who else for the first formative months of my existence. I dare you. Every time I feed Baby D and he stares into my (or Papa D’s) eyes smiling until the bottle falls out of his mouth, I know whole heartedly that this argument is a total load of bullshit.

You just didn’t try hard enough to breastfeed. You could have done x, y, z…..

What is exactly does trying hard enough look like? How much stress should you endure before you realize that you are sabotaging your relationship with your baby? Where exactly is this proverbial line, and is it honestly the same for everyone? No one can answer this for me.

Formula is a public health issue. It shouldn’t be a choice, and it should require a prescription. Breastfeeding saves 900 babies each year.

I have read the report and having done quite a bit of research in my own life, I have serious concerns with the methodology that provided that statistic. But if you must have something to fight for, do you know what would save a lot more lives? Teaching our kids to eat food that doesn’t come from a box or a drive thru for the other potential 80+ years they will be alive. That smoking is horrendous for your health and the health of those around you. That when you get in a car, you put your seatbelt on. But you want to know what really concerns me most of all? In 2005, 899,000 children were victims of abuse and neglect…to which 2000 of them died. Actually died. I would think that I, as a real-food making, non-smoking, seatbelt wearing, LOVING MOTHER….should be OFF of the “concern” radar.

If you aren’t going to breastfeed, you should use donor milk.

No, I shouldn’t. Because although human milk is nature’s most perfect food for babies (see, I can read…which is surprising, being that I was formula fed and all), it requires you to trust other humans in regard to things such as reporting infectious diseases, using prescription and non-prescription drugs, properly handling and storing milk, and being cautious of chemical contaminants. Trusting other people is difficult though, when they do things like this: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/29498350/ns/us_news-weird_news/t/woman-has-meltdown-over-mcnuggets/

Don’t you want the best for your baby?

Are you serious?! Of course I do. I want beyond the best for my baby and I want him to be happy. Part of what I feel is the absolute best for my baby, is a happy mama. A happy mama, and happy baby, is not what we had.

Lastly, I think the reason the one-upping really bothers me is because I don’t care what method anyone uses to feed their babies. I just don’t. You know why? I have seen thousands of pictures of beautiful, healthy, well-fed babies on your Facebook pages and on the Christmas cards I get in the mail in December. To me, it looks like you’re all doing a ridiculously great job raising them. I fully trust that you all are making the decisions that are right for your families and specifically your babies, regardless of what those decisions are. And if you need a little support, breast or bottle feeding, I am here for you.

To all of you that are reading,

You are a great mama, the best your baby will ever know. You are doing an amazing job. You are doing what is right for your family, or you wouldn’t be doing it. Even if it’s not what’s right for my family, I understand, and I support you.